


Gluttony

by Hambone



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Group Sex, Heavy Dubcon, Meal Time, Multi, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swindle has a dinner party and the main course is nervous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gluttony

**Author's Note:**

> The dub-con in this is very heavy but not strong enough I feel to warrant a full non-con warning. Even so, tread carefully. For robotseverywhere on my Tumblr! Enjoy!

“I do hope you enjoy what I have prepared for us tonight. It was a very difficult dish to acquire, but I feel that only speaks for its exotic quality. Not to brag too much, but I think we all know the best meals are served with a bit of build up?”

There were some laughs in the crowd. They had already been drinking for a while now, in the other room. Blurr could smell the high grade and the acidic smoke of cygars. Voices drew closer and suddenly light cut into his optics. The lid had been lifted off his tray. Various Decepticons in the crowd clapped politely but some flat out hooted, perhaps a little too overcharged. Embarrassment darkened into flat out fear in his chest, but Blurr could not even manage a struggle, the bonds around his joints tight enough to hurt. Even his helm was barely able to lift off the platter, giving him a short and bright glance at the surrounding party.

Swindle put his hand on Blurr’s calf, strung up over his thigh and pulled back to his chest.

“Looking good?”

“Oh, you’ve really outdone yourself!”

The silhouettes were too sharp against the lights on the ceiling and Blurr squeezed his shutters down, not wanting to see. More hands wormed across his stomach and breast and thighs, not quite groping but testing, as if his metal was the intended meal to be itself. Unfortunately, he knew better.

“Well, no use in making you all wait,” Swindle slapped his leg a little too hard, “enjoy!”

Fingers peeled the lips of his valve apart and he would have screamed if he could. There was hot air, several Decepticons breathing on him with their enormous ventilation systems and then a large tongue cautiously drew straight up the center of his interface equipment.

“Mhh,” the Con hummed, “that’s good. Where _do_ you find this stuff?”

Without waiting for an answer he dove back in. Blurr wailed ineffectually into his layers of gagging, entire body vibrating with taught emotion.

“Oh, I could never tell,” Swindle drawled, punctuating quite unintentionally the tongue’s first breach into his inlet, larger than normal Autobot fingers and soft and wet and questing. He was already fairly aroused, something Swindle’s goons had plugged into the back of his helm earlier making him dizzy and hot, and now he knew he was leaking everywhere. The Con between his legs drank it all up, fairly purring with pleasure, and someone by Blurr’s helm made a jealous sound.

“Don’t hog it all!”

There was some commotion. While he refused to look, Blurr could tell they were struggling, likely with that dangerous playfulness that Decepticons used to hide their vicious temperaments, and then another pair of lips smooshed against him. His spark surged as they sucked his valve lips harshly, wet popping noises loud and clear for the entire audience. The shame made him boil in his plating but it only served to make him wetter, through fear or stimulation or the wicked code Swindle had devised to make this meal a long one. Either way he was horribly ashamed of himself, especially when the bot pulled away and laughed.

“Delicious.”

“Let me try!”

More quarrelling. Fingers jabbed roughly inside him and someone began sucking on his external node, grazing with teeth and tongue, and he jumped as best he could, contracting hard.

“That’s it…”

Someone pet his helm, as if hoping to ease him towards overload. It was entirely unnecessary; his thighs quivering terribly as another nip to his nub nearly lost him. the fingers inside him never went deep enough, stirring him like a rich drink, and then there was another hard suck and he toppled, crying out into the cloth as the lips on him hurriedly moved down to envelop what they could, licking all the way through until it was too much and he thought he’d lose him mind. He felt raw and soaked, as if the lubricant now dripping from his thighs to pool around his aft was an endless stream he had no control over. Maybe it was. He was beginning to lose clarity of thought.

Just when it was getting to be almost painful the bot pulled away, smacking their mouth happily.

“Mmm.”

“Out of the way!”

This bot was not shy with their fingers, pushing in before he could fully recover and thrusting quickly, insistently sucking along the upper folds. Blurr trembled, trying to shake his head, but their movements were so quick he found himself almost dizzy from the rising pleasure, something deep and wet building inside himself. He knew from experience what she was trying to do and desperately tried to find some way to ground himself in anticipation but there was nothing, no way he could move or safety he could grasp on to. The only thing he seemed capable of was quaking in building tension until she twisted her claws just so, catching along the right cluster of sensory nodes, and he came again, this time accompanied by a literal burst of lubricant. Pulling her fingers away instantly the Con moved in to drink, ignoring the growing excitement in the crowd.

There was almost no time at all before the next bot move in, a tongue that seemed far too long and dexterous to be natural snaking inside him, blunt fingers tugging and stroking his nub with the utmost care. His calipers could not fully control themselves, squeezing in and then spreading wide in an attempt to get any pressure against his swollen nodes. Blurr’s spark spun like a top, helm spinning. He was going mad with the overwhelming pleasure, the fear only seeming to keep his senses as heightened as they could be, exacerbating the ordeal even more. He hadn’t realized until the tongue flicked against something that made him want to cry that his optics had opened again, gazing sightlessly at a chartreuse edge he was slow to recognize as Swindle.

He was watching Blurr’s face. Not his valve or the bots eating it but his own face, contorted and wrapped up as it was. It was with those purple optics locked on his own that Blurr overloaded again, and another, smaller one coaxed out of him before the individual with a long tongue was shoved away by someone else desperate for a drink.

“You make such a pretty dish, don’t you?”

While his vision had been pixilated by ecstasy Swindle had leaned over, breath hot on his face.

“They all love getting a little taste.”

Someone spread his valve wide open for far too long, openly staring, and he whined through his bonds.

“An exotic thing like you doesn’t come cheap either.”

He laughed. Blurr gazed at him imploringly.

“Oh, don’t worry. This isn’t all you’re here for. Eventually you’ll get to come to the parties where they do more than eat.”

Blurr quivered, valve pulsing as yet another foreign tongue pushed inside him. Swindle stood back up, smiling and waving at one of the guests, and Blurr relaxed back onto the silver tray, blinded in the moment as he became yet another meal.


End file.
